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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938861">ask me (i won't say no)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/schittyfic'>schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>uncharted territory [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(a tiny bit) (also why isn't there a tag for that), Communication, David Rose is a Good Person, Dirty Talk, Discovery Kink, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Light-Hearted, M/M, Patrick Brewer is Thirsty, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, depending on your definition, or - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:47:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/schittyfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which David is a shining example of respecting boundaries, which just might be Patrick's undoing.</p><p>This is a follow up to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847181">uncharted territory</a>, so I would strongly recommend reading beforehand, but it can do on its own! Truly just half porn, half boys being adorable little shits.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>uncharted territory [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>311</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ask me (i won't say no)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just wanted to say a massive thanks for the response on the last one - not having written in years (and never for this fandom) I was genuinely expecting no one to read it! I really appreciate the warm welcome.</p><p>Didn't need much encouragement at all to write a follow-up because I'm a sucker for these boys, so, here it is. Enjoy!</p><p>Title from The Smiths - Ask.</p><p>&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"...What? Is there something on my face? Oh God, my hair?"</p><p>Patrick snapped out of his reverie to find David eyeing him with concern from across the shop floor, where he’d been painstakingly arranging bottles of moisturiser. "What?"</p><p>"You're staring."</p><p>Patrick cleared his throat guiltily. "Uh, no - no, David, there's nothing. You look... good as ever," he finished lamely. David narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then pulled out his phone to check his reflection. Patrick blew out a silent breath and went back to cashing up their day's earnings - except, he'd lost count. Of course he had.</p><p>It had been a week since their night at Stevie’s, and Patrick was perhaps a little distracted. David, it turned out, was a shining example of respecting someone’s boundaries, reminding him more than a few times that he was happy to move at Patrick’s pace, and that he didn’t need anything more that Patrick wasn’t ready to give him. </p><p>And Patrick appreciated that. Really.</p><p>It’s just - that seemed to mean David wasn’t pushing for anything <em> at all</em>. Every stolen makeout session left Patrick more and more curious and full of <em> want </em> that he wasn’t confident enough to do anything with, and he was starting to believe they may never progress beyond grinding up against each other like horny teenagers. It wasn’t as if one night of mutual orgasms had completely blown away his deeply-rooted issues with his identity, or erased his nerves at not knowing what the hell he was doing with a man. Patrick knew he had a long road ahead. But he also knew he wanted more - he wanted to <em> try</em>, and he knew now that David would be the last person to judge him if things didn’t go right.</p><p>Of course, rather than communicating that, Patrick would fantasise desperately about David and hope he’d somehow read his mind instead. It hadn’t gotten him far. Mostly, he found himself thinking about David’s hands - now, for example, watching David neaten up his goddamn product displays.</p><p>They were strong, and <em>big</em>, but silky soft, and his fingers were slender and nimble. Patrick remembered how he'd grabbed his hip bruisingly just before he'd come, the goosebumps he brought up on Patrick's skin stroking over his sides, and - yeah, okay, maybe Patrick was kicking himself <em>hard</em> for not letting David just shove his hand down his pants when he’d had the chance.</p><p>David meandered back to the counter, preening a little and smoothing a non-existent loose hair into place. "Okay, so, there's nothing on my face. Which means, umm, <em> either</em>, you were planning how to murder me, make it look like an accident, and take over this extremely lucrative business for yourself--" </p><p>Patrick scoffed a little, looking up from the neatly stacked cash piles on the counter to see David leaning over it and shimmying his shoulders playfully as he continued, "--<em>or</em>, you were having some naughty daydreams, Patrick Brewer."</p><p>"You seem very confident that it's one of those two explanations, David."</p><p>David shrugged, resting his head on his hand and idly watching Patrick flick through the crisp bills from the register. "In my experience it's usually one or the other? But just in case it is the former, I should warn you, I took approximately 0.75 taekwondo classes when I was seven, so. Watch out."</p><p>Patrick grinned down at the sheet he was tidily writing on. A few seconds ticked by quietly, and he glanced up to meet an expectant gaze. </p><p>"So? Wanna tell me what you were thinking about?"</p><p>He wanted to - but the words just wouldn’t come.</p><p>"I'd like to finish cashing up, actually. And while we're on the topic, I'd <em> really </em> like for you to sweep the floor like I asked you to when we closed, like, twenty minutes ago," Patrick said dryly, just a tiny sparkle of humour in his eyes.</p><p>David gave an eye roll which somehow involved his entire head. "Okay, that sounds <em> really fun</em>, and I will definitely… add it to my to do list. Right now, this is way more interesting. So."</p><p>Another few beats of silence, with Patrick carefully and composedly keeping his eyes downturned on his work.</p><p>"Come on. Tell me," David pressed gently, lips quirking up at one side, and Patrick sighed, leaned in across the counter so their faces were inches apart, ridiculously pleased when David's eyes darted down to his lips and his head tilted like he was so ready to be kissed. </p><p>"You wanna know what I was fantasising about?" he murmured, pitching his voice low.</p><p>"Mm-<em>hmm</em>, yes, I do."</p><p>Patrick deliberately bypassed David's mouth and brought his lips to his ear, his next words coming out in a husky murmur. "You sweeping the damn floor."</p><p>David groaned and shoved at his shoulder, glaring at him as he begrudgingly snatched up the broom from the corner. "The worst. You're the <em> worst</em>."</p><p>**</p><p>The next morning was a slow one in the store, which meant one, predictable thing.</p><p>"Did you put the sign on the door, David?"</p><p>"Hm?" David’s reply was distracted as he trailed his lips down the side of Patrick's neck, tugging at the skin with his teeth. </p><p>"The sign. The 'gone for lunch' sign that means people won't be - uh - walking into the store while we do this," Patrick hissed out. He attempted to press David's shoulders back against the wall in the dim light of their backroom to look him in the eye, but David just gave a pleased little hum and went with it, pulling Patrick closer like he liked being sandwiched against the wall. David's hands slowly rucked up Patrick's shirt, exposing inch after inch of pale skin and then dragging his nails all the way back down to his hips. Patrick already looked relatively untidy, his top few shirt buttons undone and a blossoming hickey on his shoulder (<em>far </em> below the collar, thank you, David), and David wasn't in a state to serve customers either with his swollen lips and slightly mussed hair - so maybe it was a little late for Patrick to check. But, listen, at least he was <em> checking</em>.</p><p>"Yes, sure, I absolutely did that," David said hurriedly, kissing the displeased noise from Patrick's mouth, and Patrick promptly forgot about the sign (or where they were, or his own name) as David's hips tilted into his. Vivid memories of the other night sprang to mind, and he could definitely feel David growing harder against his thigh, as well as pretty much 98% of the blood in his brain rushing down to his own dick.</p><p>Mustering up a semblance of composure, he muttered, "Y'know, as a business partner, I gotta be confident you'll <em> actually </em>follow up on things I ask you to do. Should I be reconsidering my investment decisions, or...?"</p><p>David gasped, his expression deeply offended. "Oh my God! You asked for tea this morning and I brought it!"</p><p>"After you got distracted by pie and forgot it the first time, right?" Patrick raised his eyebrows at him, the sweet touches of his hands carefully exploring the skin under David’s sweater at complete odds with his sardonic expression.</p><p>"Fuck off," David grumbled, although he couldn't seem to hold the wounded expression on his face. "Anyway. You could ask me to do literally anything, right now, and I would--" he paused for a quick, hot kiss, "--<em> follow up</em>. Immediately, in fact."</p><p>"Is that so?" Patrick had to laugh, preparing another snippy comeback, but the words fell out of his head when he met David's gaze - dark, dark eyes boring into his, full of promise and heat and still, always, safety. Patrick had never felt this contained by someone, and yet simultaneously wanted to fucking <em> pounce on them</em>.</p><p>"Yes, I'm a very conscientious business partner." A lopsided smirk spread across David's lips as he spoke, teasing and warm. "Seriously, though," and he looked up to the ceiling and spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole world. "Anything at all. Just ask me."</p><p>Patrick had never been good at asking for what he wanted. In business, yes - but never eloquent enough to voice his desires when it came to sex. Truth be told, he hadn’t had many specific wants or kinks or fantasies to explore - he'd thought that was him being boring, but now, well, he understood why. With David, he had a whole damn lot to want for, and maybe all he had to do was ask. But he'd never talked dirty, or even had basic conversations about what he did and didn't want in sex. No one had ever thought to ask him, and he hadn't dared to ask himself.</p><p>"I think I want you to touch me," he said in a rush, determinedly holding David's gaze even as he felt his stomach fluttering with nerves.</p><p>"Oh? Hm - I am touching you, though." David squeezed his hips and skated his hands up under Patrick's wrinkled shirt, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples and sending a tiny shiver through him. God, he was such a <em> dick,</em> and Patrick was an absolute <em> sucker </em>for him. "<em>Right </em> - you want me to touch you somewhere else?"</p><p>Patrick nodded, his pulse kicking up a notch. David experimentally slid a thigh in between Patrick's legs, pressing against his hard cock, watching for his reaction. "Here?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Say it." The words were low and hot, but David’s kiss was sweet. "I need to know - I really don't wanna cross a line with you, Patrick." </p><p>That part of Patrick's brain which had screamed at him last time to scramble off the bed (which he had) and run out of the apartment (which he hadn't) was whispering quietly now, easier to ignore but still there. A part of him that didn't want him to do what felt right, because it wanted to convince him it was wrong. It wanted to convince him <em> he </em>was wrong, dirty and shameful for wanting these things, and even worse if he found he enjoyed them. </p><p>It had been deafening for most of his life - Patrick didn't want to listen to it now.</p><p>"Touch my cock.”</p><p>"Are you sure?" God, he was so sincere.</p><p>In response, Patrick grabbed David's hand from where it cupped his face, and slowly, surely, brought it to his crotch. He swallowed and kept his eyes on David's face, wanting him to see how sure he was, how much he wanted it even if it scared him.</p><p>David instantly moulded his hand to the outline of Patrick's cock through his jeans, eyebrows shooting up with a pleased whisper of, "Oh, <em> okay</em>.”</p><p>David was touching him. Jesus Christ. David was grinding the heel of his hand against his cock and slowly massaging the length, maddening through the denim and so goddamn sure of himself, like every movement was choreographed to perfection. Patrick wrapped both hands round the back of David's neck and kissed him deeply, and David held him close, licking into his mouth mind-meltingly slow, like he could stay here forever. Patrick quickly found his nerves dissipating just as they had last time, overtaken by a burning need. Patrick whispered his name and David responded with a hushed <em> yeah, </em> and pushed Patrick’s half-open shirt out of the way as he kissed and bit down his neck to his chest, even though he had to bow his neck to do it. Patrick found himself rocking up on his tiptoes in an attempt to get closer, get <em> more</em>, but it wasn't enough - God, it wasn't enough. </p><p>"What?" David cooed smugly, and Patrick realised he'd made a desperate, pained noise.</p><p>"Can you--" Patrick stopped. <em> Anything. Just ask me.</em> "I want to feel your hand on me. Can you - God, <em> touch </em>me, jerk me off."</p><p>David blinked at him, registering for just a second before eagerly fumbling with his belt. "Okay but - just so you know, though - I really don't think I put that sign on the door," David confessed, sheepishly grimacing as if expecting a reprimand, though his hands weren't slowing.</p><p>"Don't care. David, I don't care, just--" Patrick cut himself off with a sharp inhale, looking down between them, because that - that was David's hand wrapped around his dick. "Oh my god."</p><p>"Oh <em> my </em>god," David countered, his gaze joining Patrick's and watching his flushed cock slowly slide in and out of his fist. "You are so pretty." </p><p>Patrick hadn’t been called that before.</p><p>He liked it.</p><p>Patrick couldn't stop staring, that voice in his head whispering <em> wrong</em>, but his dick and his heart and the shaky breaths escaping him were all screaming <em> right, right, right. </em> The angle wasn't the best, and he wished they were laying down (and, well, not in the store), but somehow it was better than anything he'd ever had. Patrick wasn't small, but David's hand practically enveloped him, his strokes confident and fluid, and Patrick loved the firmness of it, the unmistakable strength of a man’s hand on him. Leaking already and flushed pink, Patrick's cock twitched in David's hand with each twist of his wrist - his thighs were trembling, his goddamn knees were shaking - honestly, he was a little embarrassed to be this affected just from this.</p><p>"Is this good?" David murmured, so soft, as he gave his cock a squeeze that pushed a moan out of him.</p><p>"Yes - yeah, that’s good," Patrick managed. He felt like he didn’t know where to put his hands, grabbing at David’s hair, then flying down to shove his sweater upwards in an attempt to feel more of him. David’s breaths were coming just as short as his own, even though all he was getting was the occasional brush of Patrick's thigh on his cock. </p><p>"Are you sure, because--" </p><p>The words about to leave David's mouth were cut off by an impatient growl from Patrick, suddenly tugging the sweater over David's head, partially to get him half-naked and partly just to shut him up for a second. "<em> Yes </em> - David, yes, please don't stop, I swear to God."</p><p>"Alright, shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you." David grinned and spun them around, pushing Patrick into the wall - a little rough, except for his hand gently cupping the back of Patrick’s head, softening the small <em> thump </em> into the unforgiving surface. <em> I’ve got you. </em></p><p>David jerked him faster, muscles in his arm shifting beneath olive skin, smearing Patrick’s precome all the way down his shaft and letting his fingertips tease at his balls. Patrick moaned embarrassingly loudly, remembered where he was and clapped a hand over his own mouth, breaths coming short and fast as David moved to play with his balls in one hand, working his cock with the other. It was like he knew exactly what Patrick's body wanted - or, maybe Patrick just never had someone pay this much attention before. </p><p>"God, you're so wet - you love this, don't you, huh?"</p><p>Patrick swallowed a moan and nodded, still covering his mouth. David smirked and lifted Patrick’s hand away, instead linked their fingers together and pinned it lightly to the wall beside his head, watching his reaction. It wasn't forceful at all - Patrick could easily twist free, if for any reason David didn't let go - but he knew he would, and in any case, Patrick didn’t want him to.</p><p>"I like those sweet sounds of yours. Wanna hear how good you feel,” David murmured. “Can I keep you pinned like this?"</p><p>"Yeah," Patrick breathed out blissfully. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep himself quiet and David looked positively elated every time he moaned, almost answering in kind every time. It was reckless, someone could walk into the store and overhear at any moment - but God if that didn’t make Patrick harder. He’d always been straight-laced and rule-abiding, but David made him shameless, and the thought that someone might hear them - might even walk into the back and see him with his cock out and his clothes rumpled, so desperate he couldn’t even wait ‘til closing time - his hips snapped forward suddenly, his cock sliding through David’s fist.</p><p>"Fuck - Patrick, yeah, that’s it, fuck my fist, that is so fucking hot," David whispered, and Patrick did just that - firm, forceful thrusts - he was dripping, and the slick sound of his cock fucking David's hand was obscene in the quiet. "Next time, I wanna see all of you - okay, next time we have a fucking <em>bed</em> - I just wanna get you naked, if you'll let me. Can't wait to see how fucking gorgeous you are, honey."</p><p>Patrick's mouth fell slack against David's, practically panting into his mouth. He was a mess - sweating, shaking, and before he could even speak he was coming, eyes squeezing shut and a long groan muffled against David's mouth. His knees gave way a little, and his free hand flung out aimlessly to ground himself - and knocked an entire stack of boxes next to them onto the floor, with a crash that he barely registered. </p><p>David <em> giggled </em> as Patrick slumped against him, breathing hard. "Um, okay, wow."</p><p>"...Shut up, David."</p><p>David held him for a moment and then supported most of his weight to sit him down on a large box a few metres away. "I'm flattered, really. I know my hands are pretty good, but I don't think I've ever given such a... <em> destructive? </em>Handjob?"</p><p>Patrick looked up at him, legs spread and his cock barely softening, shirt askew with one button still fastened, face and chest flushed pink and a dazed grin on his face. "S'what I was thinking about - yesterday. Your hands. They're nice hands."</p><p>David gave him a look which said <em> well, obviously, </em> then absent-mindedly licked a smear of Patrick's come from one finger, then another, then another.</p><p>Patrick stared. His cock twitched. He winced. "Okay, that's not fair in the slightest."</p><p>David snickered and came to kneel on the floor in front of Patrick's box-perch, pulling him in for a kiss which tasted like himself. "Okay so, I know you just literally came your brains out and almost destroyed a shipment of jasmine-infused body milk, <em> but</em>, I don't like to <em> assume </em>these things, so.” David waved vaguely with his hands. "Any feelings of intense regret, or imminent crises…?"</p><p>"No. No." Patrick rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down and back up. "I’m… glad I asked. It’s, uh, I think it’s weird admitting what I want out loud. Because I didn’t even admit that to myself, in my head, before I met you. But - I’m gonna work on that. You make me feel, uh... brave enough, I guess.”</p><p>David tightened his lips against a wide smile which threatened to break out, and nodded a few times. "Well, I am… also glad. That you asked," he said measuredly, and Patrick felt a fierce surge of warmth towards him.</p><p>As David stood with a grumbled complaint about his knees and reached for his sweater, he unsubtly adjusted himself through his weird skirt-pants. <em> Oh</em>. Wait. David hadn't come. Oh God, oh fuck, Patrick was an idiot, David was going to think he was <em> terrible at sex. </em></p><p>"You didn't come. Let me…" </p><p>"Oh - um. You don't need to," David said quickly as he redressed, and Patrick adored that he was being so patient and refusing to push him, but he felt bold and sexy and really, honestly, wanted to jerk him off.</p><p>"I want to. I swear - I want to." Patrick got up and pulled him close, running his hand down his body and grazing over his bulge. "I haven’t just been thinking about your hands.”</p><p>David made a noise in his throat and screwed his face up briefly, leaning into Patrick's touches. "<em>Well</em>," he said, exaggeratedly, "I mean, I'm a nice person? So if you <em> really want it</em>, who am I to deny--"</p><p>A bell tinkles.</p><p>A woman's voice: "Hello? Are you open?" </p><p>David instantly snapped back, "No, nope, no one's here!"</p><p>"David!" Patrick hissed, slapping his chest.</p><p>"<em>What?</em>" David looked scandalised, and glanced desperately between Patrick's stern look and his crotch. "But - okay, but - my dick, though. You were gonna touch my dick. Let's just ignore <em> that</em>--" he fluttered his hands in the direction of the main store, "--and focus on <em> this</em>," hands waving between the two of them.</p><p>"Uh-uh." Patrick stepped back smartly, pointing a firm finger at David. "We've had, like, two sales today. Also, of the two of us, you’re markedly more presentable, so. Get out there."</p><p>"Um… hello?" The woman's voice drew closer.</p><p>David did look remarkably composed compared to Patrick's overall messiness, and the section of fabric at the front of his pants conveniently hid his boner. He glared at Patrick, opened his mouth, made a frustrated noise and stalked towards the doorway, twitching the curtain smartly behind him.</p><p>Patrick listened to him greet the customer in a tight, barely-polite voice, and as he sat in the backroom of their store, rumpled and messy and surrounded by boxes he now had to pick up - he considered just how lucky he was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed or have any feedback at all!</p><p>&lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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